Something More
by emn1936
Summary: She had come to reach a hard-earned respect for her commanding officer in the three months since they had been assigned to the Enterprise
1. Chapter 1

Something More

By: emn1936

Disclaimer: Story is mine; characters and settings are not

Chapter One

Clad in her off-duty uniform comprised of jeans and a casual shirt, Uhura strode through the nearly deserted corridors at a brisk pace. She had gone off duty several hours earlier and though it was late, she was not yet ready to seek her bed. She loved this time when most of her crewmates were winding down for the evening and settling into their quarters while the much smaller evening shift manned their posts.

Like most of her crewmates, Uhura thrived on excitement and the controlled chaos that made for life on the Federation's flagship; but she also cherished the near hush that fell over the _Enterprise_ at this time every evening. While the busy thrum of her duties and interacting with the senior bridge crew kept her mind nimble; these treasured moments of alone time allowed her spirit a chance to rejuvenate.

She entered the large fitness and recreation center that comprised a significant part of one of the lower decks and entered the locker room. Pressing her thumb over a small scanner, she heard the lock disengage and pulled open the door to her private storage area. Her gaze fell on her workout clothes and she automatically began to reach for them when suddenly she stopped and instead debated the merits of the two swimsuits stored there. She quickly made a decision and stripped out of her clothes and into her favorite bikini. She had denied herself the slice of chocolate cake that had been calling out to her at dinner earlier that evening and as a reward for her show of willpower, she felt she deserved a relaxing hour or so spent lolling in a chaise lounge poolside in the artificial sunlight rather than sweating off imagined unwanted pounds. She yanked a tote bag from her locker, stuffed a towel, her personal music player and an e-book written by a new mystery writer into its depths and slammed the door closed.

Pleased that the lack of activity in the locker area indicated that she would have the pool area to herself, she slipped her feet into rubber-soled sandals and tugged a loose cover-up over her suit. Her pony-tail bounced jauntily as she set off for the pool area. As she exited the locker room, her mouth curved down in disappointment as the sound of distant music indicated that she was not as alone as she had hoped, though she quickly came to realize that the sound was coming from the fitness center and not the pool. Curious, she detoured towards the glass window that ran the length of the fitness center and looked in. Her first sweeping glance over the room indicated it was empty, but then she caught the signs of movement coming from one corner. As she slipped through the open door, her gaze fell on the unmistakable figure of her captain using one of the treadmills at the far end of the room.

He was shirtless and a loose pair of navy running shorts rode low on his hips. His normally blonde hair was two shades darker with sweat and perspiration gleamed on his torso and soaked into the waistband of his shorts. A stack of PADDs was piled haphazardly on a small table next to the treadmill and another was propped in a slot on the machine's display panel. Though Uhura had come to reach a hard-earned respect for her commanding officer in the three months since they had been assigned to the _Enterprise_, neither was she inclined to seek his company while off-duty. She didn't think he had taken note of her presence and she decided to back out of the room and continue on with her plans for the rest of the evening when her gaze fell on the overhead monitor displaying the stats on his workout. Judging by the number of miles exhibited and the severe pace he was setting, Kirk had been on the treadmill for a grueling amount of time. Uhura's gaze flew to his face and she was startled to find her normally handsome, young captain looking haggard and worn. His eyes were closed, his typically smiling mouth settled into a grim line.

This was not a man out to hone his body into shape but rather a man bent on penance… or punishment.

***********

**A/N: Though I was wholly-intrigued by the S/U pairing in the movie, this is the story that popped into my mind. It may wind up being a friendship, a romance, or somewhere in between. If you read it, I hope you enjoy it. I'd love to know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Uhura had no idea how long she watched him in morbid curiosity but she was startled back into awareness when he suddenly stumbled, breaking his rhythm. His hands flew out to grasp the rails on either side of him before he managed to right himself and settle back into his stride. But Uhura was aware now of the raggedness of his breathing and the flush of color riding high on his cheeks. And she was compelled to interfere.

"Computer," she called out as she strode across the room. "Begin cool-down." Kirk's head snapped up as, immediately, the revolutions of the tread beneath his feet began to slow.

"Uhura!" he gasped. "Is there something you need?" Assuming she had come to discuss something with him, his pace obediently followed as the machine shifted into a slow jog and then a walk designed to bring his heartbeat back to normal.

"I think you've had enough exercise for the evening… Captain."

Kirk recognized the biting edge to her voice. It was the same sarcastic tone he heard every time she thought he was doing something stupid.

He came to an abrupt standstill and shot an icy glance her way.

"I don't really think that's your decision to make, Lieutenant." He injected a note of authority into his voice and they engaged in a staring contest of sorts for several seconds before Kirk flicked his eyes away from her dismissively and broke the silence.

"Computer. Resume workout program number…"

"Computer!" Uhura raised her voice to be heard over his.

"Lieutenant!" Anger vibrated in his voice. "I am ordering you to –"

"Sir," she interrupted. "Respectfully…" She stepped closer and lifted her gaze to his, noting the still rapid heaving of his chest. "You've had enough tonight."

Again, they spent long moments staring at one another, neither wanting to back down.

Uhura picked up a towel and held it out to him.

"Please."

Finally, Kirk acceded. With a small jerk of his chin, he took the towel from her. As he stepped off the treadmill, Uhura pretended not to notice that he did so on dangerously wobbly legs.

He grabbed a bottle of water from his pile of belongings and sank down onto the padded seat of one of the pieces of exercise equipment spread around the room. He draped the towel around his neck and poured some of the water onto his head before tipping the bottle to his mouth and gulping down the rest of the contents.

Uhura was startled to find herself oddly fascinated by the workings of the strong muscles of his throat as he guzzled the cool water. When the bottle was empty, he propped it on the floor next to his feet. Using one end of the towel, he mopped his face.

He took note of her attire, the cover-up and brightly-colored sandals on her feet. "You're obviously not here for a workout." His lips quirked in his trademark smirk but Uhura noted that it was done with some effort.

"No," she said. "No workout for me, tonight."

An awkward silence fell over them. Kirk squirmed uncomfortably under her probing gaze.

"Listen," he sighed. "I don't want to keep you from your plans." He gestured towards the door leading to the pool area. He held up his right hand as if taking a solemn oath. "I promise. No more treadmill tonight."

Uhura debated doing as he suggested, but found herself settling down on the seat of a nearby weight bench instead.

"So," she asked, "what I want to know is what has you up so late."

Kirk merely raised a brow in what Uhura had to acknowledge was a fair imitation of Spock's habitual quirk.

"What has _you_ up so late?" he countered.

Uhura suppressed a smile at his deflection and simply stayed the course, staring at him with quiet patience.

Kirk, a young man who never was – and never would be known for his patience - cracked first.

"Just busy." He lifted his gym bag from the floor, drew out another bottle of water and held it out to her with a questioning look.

"No, thanks." She shook her head and gestured with one hand for him to continue speaking. "You were saying?"

Kirk flipped the lid of the bottle open and took a long sip.

"Busy," he repeated, gesturing to the stack of reports piled behind him.

She shrugged carelessly. "We're all busy," she countered, wanting to goad him into _really_ answering her query. "We all have reports to prepare and review."

His eyes widened and he looked at her with an incredulous expression.

"Yeah, and every report written by the department heads eventually makes its way onto my desk and I have to read them all and sign off on them."

Uhura wasn't sure why she kept pushing, why she didn't just leave him and go about her original plans. She wasn't even sure that she liked him. No, she thought. That wasn't entirely true either. He was charming and charismatic; much more intelligent than she had originally given him credit for; brave to the point of recklessness at times and undoubtedly handsome. And though on the surface she resisted and seemed immune, she oftentimes found herself unwillingly drawn into his orbit.

And while part of her just wanted to walk away, the memory of the pained expression she'd witnessed on his face would not leave her mind's eye. She couldn't seem to let go until she found out its cause, even if she had to bully it out of him.

Uhura shrugged again. "I'm sure most starship captains trust their senior officers and sign off on the reports without feeling the need to read every word, dot every "I" and cross every "T". She bathed her tone in sarcasm. Jim Kirk was known for his hair-trigger temper and she was trying to provoke him into losing a bit of the uncharacteristic control he was exerting. Being a good xenolinguistics expert meant a lot more than just an excellent grasp of languages. The study of her craft had included hours of psychology classes as well as learning to pick up subtle cues from a subject's body language. Right now, Kirk's defensive posture had completely captured her attention. She often found his cocky attitude to be irritating but this tightly wound version of the man was disquieting.

"I'm not other captains!" he exclaimed.

"What are you then?"

Kirk shoved an agitated hand through his damp hair. "What do you want, Uhura?" he asked. "Why are you bugging me about this?"

She drew her feet up onto the bench and rested her chin on her knees. "I don't know," she admitted. "Right now I want to know how you're different from other starship captains."

"I'm the youngest captain in Starfleet history."

"We're all young," she countered dismissively. "Collectively, we're the youngest crew in Starfleet history."

Kirk tipped his head back and let out a tired-sounding sigh. "You just don't understand," he muttered. "I have no margin for error. I can't make another mistake."

"No one is perfect. Why do you think you have to be?" She held out a hand and he passed her the bottle of water. She took a quick sip. "Half the crew is as young, or younger, than you and no one is demanding more than that we do jobs to the best of our abilities."

"My father was perfect."

"No one is perfect," she repeated.

"A man who gives up his life for his crew, a man who dies heroically… that man is _remembered_ as being perfect," he told her.

"And because you're a hero's son, you're also supposed to be perfect?"

Kirk dropped his chin against his chest. "Because I'm his son… because soon I'll have lived a longer life than he did, I'm supposed to be everything he was _and more_." He lifted his gaze and she was struck by the wounded look in his normally merry eyes.

"I've never measured up. I gave up trying a long time ago," he admitted.

At that moment, she understood the demons that drove James T. Kirk.

"I don't believe that," she argued. "If you had given up a long time ago, you would still be brawling in a bar in Iowa.

Kirk rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "Pike," he muttered.

"What about him?"

"Nothing. It's stupid." He closed his eyes in memory of his first meeting with Christopher Pike.

"He challenged me and one of my many faults is an apparent inability to turn down a dare."

Uhura's lips quirked upward in a slight smile. "What did he dare you to do?"

Kirk lay back so that he was stretched out on the padded seat and flung an arm over his eyes.

"He reminded me that my father was captain for only minutes and that he managed to save eight hundred lives in that short time. And then he dared me to join Starfleet and do better." His smile was a twisted parody of the generous grin that normally wreathed his face.

"Even my mentor expects me to beat perfection," he snorted.

He dropped his arm and rolled his head to look at her. Uhura felt a tightening in her chest as she witnessed the torment on his face.

"How does anyone measure up to that kind of expectation?" he asked miserably.

Uhura shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted softly. "It's a tall order."

She stood. "What I do know is that you're exhausted and that everything looks its worst when you're so tired you can't think straight," she said noting the shadows that looked like bruises under his eyes. She extended one hand in a silent offer to help him to his feet. "It's really late now. Why don't you head back to your quarters and rest? Things will look better in the morning."

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Ah… clichés." He pushed himself back into a seated position. "You go ahead, Uhura. I've taken up enough of your time and I still have a couple of hours of work to do."

Uhura stood her ground and stubbornly continued to hold out her hand.

"You look kind of beat up from running your marathon." She jerked her head toward the now silent treadmill. "Your legs are probably still wobbly," she noted. "I'm pretty sure I could force you…" She waggled her fingers imperiously.

"Come on."

Kirk released a long, shuddering breath and reached for his things. He pulled a t-shirt over his head and began to stuff the rest of his belongings, including the stack of PADDs into his bag. Uhura stood patiently, some tiny part of her taking note of how the worn cotton of his shirt clung lovingly to him, outlining his lean and lightly muscled form.

She wiggled her fingers again and Kirk put his hand into hers, allowing her to tug him to his feet. He slung his bag over his shoulder and reached down for her bag with the other hand. Their walk back towards the living quarters of the _Enterprise_ was silent and they reached her door first.

Uhura plugged in the code to release the door lock, then turned to look up at him.

"Tomorrow's supposed to be a quiet day isn't it?" she prompted.

"Yeah, we won't reach the star base for another three days."

She tapped a finger against the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Then why don't you bring those reports with you to the bridge in the morning and work on them there?" she suggested. "You don't have to finish them tonight."

"You're the captain, remember? You get to make the rules now." She smiled mischievously, pleased when she managed to wring a wry grin from him.

"Oh, yeah… I knew there was something cool about this job."

She laid a gentle hand on his forearm. "Get some sleep, Captain. That's an order."

Kirk tapped two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute.

"I'll see you in the morning, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. 0700."

She stepped into her darkened room and let the doors slide closed behind her. She felt like she had just met James T. Kirk for the very first time. Who was the real Kirk, she wondered. Was it the boy playing at being a man whom she had met three years ago? Or was it the man she now suspected had never had a chance to be a boy whom she had met tonight?

She wanted to know something…. something more.

*********


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Uhura's morning started off much in the way her evening had ended – in quiet contemplation of her captain. It seemed he had taken her advice to heart. He brought the stack of reports with him to the bridge and spent most of the morning quietly reading, making the occasional notation and scrawling his signature on one after another. Despite knowing that he had not spent the rest of the evening working, the shadows under his eyes and the countless cups of coffee he had consumed were evidence of another sleepless night.

Uhura turned away from her study of the man in the chair and returned to work, one part of her mind efficiently performing her tasks while the other part continued to consider the puzzle that was James Kirk. She suppressed a sigh. She wasn't sure what to do at this point but she had encouraged him to open up and now she felt that she was in too deep to simply walk away and leave him alone with those dark thoughts.

Uhura studiously ignored the tiny whisper in the back of her brain that told her that part of the reason she could not let this go was a growing fascination and need to get to know more about the hidden depths to the man that she had never suspected existed until now. She came to an abrupt decision and grabbing a compact, personal-size PADD, scribbled a quick note. Rising from her station she approached the command chair.

"Captain?"

Caught up in his reading, Kirk looked up with a start at the sound of her voice but recovered quickly.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I need your signature." She held out the electronic notepad. Kirk took the PADD from her and it was only due to her close proximity that she was able to hear his quick inhalation as he read the note.

'_I never did get my swim in last night. You owe me. 2300 hours.'_

Confused blue eyes darted up to meet placid brown. He held her stare for a heartbeat before giving a barely perceptible nod and scrawled his initials beneath her note.

"Thank you, sir." She took the notepad back and casually pressed the delete key as she returned to her station.

**************

Uhura had dressed carefully. No bikini tonight. Her choice of swimsuit was a two-piece halter and skirt modest enough to befit the senior communications officer of the _Enterprise_. She arrived first and was sitting cross-legged on one of the poolside lounge chairs braiding her usual ponytail into a long rope when he arrived.

"Captain." She raised her face as he slowly approached.

"Lieutenant," he replied solemnly. "Is this seat taken?" he asked, indicating the lounge next to hers.

She swept out an inviting hand. "All yours."

Kirk hesitated, then dropped his bag onto the floor and collapsed onto the chair. He let out a long groan as he stretched aching muscles and tipped his face up to soak in the artificial sunlight. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes. Kirk's eyes were closed and his breathing was so soft and steady, Uhura would have believed him to be asleep if it were not for the nervous jiggling of one of his feet. He abruptly rolled onto his stomach. Wadding up a towel as a pillow, he propped his chin onto his stacked fists and turned his attention to the woman seated next to him.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" His tone was cautious.

Uhura pursed her lips. She had certainly asked him enough personal questions last night. "You can ask… I'll let you know if I want to answer."

"Fair enough." He paused and seemed to be searching for the right words.

"Two nights in a row… why aren't you with Spock?"

Her eyes widened. She actually had not anticipated that would be his question. She glanced down and took a deep breath.

"Spock and I have decided to end our personal relationship," she said in a quiet voice. She looked up to find Kirk watching her. His steady and sympathetic gaze held hers for a long moment before he broke the silence.

"Did he break your heart?"

"Are you asking me if I was in love with him? Or if I'm still in love with him?"

He shrugged. "I'm asking if you're okay." The concern lacing his voice compelled her to answer with more honesty than she might have otherwise.

"I think I was… I could have fallen in love with him," she said slowly. "He challenged me in a way no other man ever has," she admitted. She pulled her braid over her shoulder and began to play with the loose ends in what Kirk recognized as a nervous gesture.

"When I was with him… he made me feel smarter. You know what I mean?"

"Actually, being around him makes me feel dumber than usual, but I have a very strict policy of not arguing with beautiful women," he said, pleased to elicit a tiny smirk from her.

"I bet you do," she retorted. "Anyway," she continued, "catching glimpses of all of those repressed emotions, being one of the few people to ever get to see that side of him…" She sighed and shook her head. "But after the destruction of Vulcan he completely locked down his human half. He stopped opening up to me and then one day he told me that it would be better if we stopped pursuing a romantic relationship. He told me that it could never go any further because when the time came for him to choose a mate, he was bound by duty, honor and love of his people to choose a Vulcan woman."

Her smiled wobbled for a moment. "So, that was the end of that."

"I'm sorry," he said simply and sincerely.

"Well… it's been nearly two months and I'm over it… mostly. Maybe if things had been different… if Vulcan had never been destroyed, we might have had a chance, but…" She let out a long breath. Kirk dropped his head onto his crossed arms to hide the tightening of his jaw and the emotion flashing in his eyes. "Anyway. Enough of that. How are you?"

"Me? I'm fine. Great. Groovy."

She rolled her eyes at the false enthusiasm of his muffled voice.

"Groovy?" she snorted. "Really?"

She tilted her head to one side and made a show of studying him closely. "Because, I have to tell you that you look like hell."

"Wow! Thanks."

"Look," she said, ignoring his sarcasm. "I'm worried about you."

"Why the sudden concern?" he asked, his head popping up to shoot her an accusing look. "Normally, you can't wait to get away from me."

Avoiding his eyes, she leaned forward and studied her pedicure. "I don't know. I thought… last night… we were becoming friends. I want to help." Her shoulders lifted helplessly. "Last night you looked… beaten. I'm used to seeing you cocky and arrogant and supremely confident."

"Confident," he muttered softly. "Yeah." He laid his head back down and closed his eyes.

"So… What? You're saying that it's all an act? That underneath that brash exterior you're just a confused, scared kid?"

Kirk sat up and propped his chin on his knees, watching the lane markers bob gently in the pool. "You remember all those expectations I told you people have for me?" he asked.

"Of course."

"I'm saying that I learned very early in life that it would be impossible to come anywhere close to meeting them and so I figured that the best thing to do would be to lower everyone's expectations so that they wouldn't be disappointed." He huffed out an angry breath. "Turns out that I disappointed everyone, anyway. Including my mother. _Especially _my mother."

He barked out a self-mocking laugh. "I didn't care though. The less they thought about me, the happier I was because then I didn't have to try and fail. Truth is that nothing mattered enough to me to make me want to try."

"So what changed?" Uhura asked.

"I don't know. Pike's challenge. Those goons in the bar that night. You."

"Me?" she exclaimed. "What did I do?"

He shoved himself to his feet and stood with his back to her, hands propped on his hips.

"I was pissed. You and those four morons all had the same annoying, superior attitude and I was sick of it."

"I..." she began, but he flicked off her protest with one hand.

"Dumb hick." "Townie." "Farm boy." He reeled off the disparaging comments that had been made that night. "You thought that because you were a first year Starfleet cadet that you were too good for the likes of me – or any of the other civilians in that bar. You decided in a split second that I wasn't worth getting to know."

"You were drunk," she defended herself.

"I was buzzed," he corrected, turning and stabbing an accusing finger at her. "And since you were in a bar, doing shots of Jack, and placing a drink order as long as my arm, I have to assume that total sobriety was not part of your game plan that night either," he shot back.

"I –"

"I was pissed," he repeated. "I knew I was as smart as you – maybe more so – and definitely miles ahead of those four jackasses." He huffed out an irritated laugh. "Then Pike challenged me and I decided 'what the hell'. I'd join Starfleet and I'd blow through the Academy, doing in three years what it took the rest of you to do in four."

"And you did."

"Yeah." He yanked off his t-shirt and stepped out of his jeans. "And for what? I still screwed it up."

"Screwed up? What are you talking -?"

"I'm going for a swim." He cut her off and adjusted the waistband of his swim trunks as he stalked away.

Uhura rested her back against her chair and watched him execute a shallow dive and surface a third of the way across the pool before racing towards the other end of the lane. Back and forth he went; lap after lap, never letting up the blistering pace he had set until she couldn't bear to watch him any longer. Something had to give here.

TBC

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and for those of you who put my story on alert. I appreciate it. As I stated earlier, I was surprised – but really **_**enjoyed**_** the S/U pairing in the movie. Still, there was something about that Entertainment Weekly publicity shot of Chris Pine and Zoe Saldana which definitely put thoughts into my head ********.com/ew/article/0,,20275802,**

**Also, I do note that Chris Pine's hair is brown; however, **_**Kirk**_** is a blonde.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Standing, she shed her cover-up and eased herself into the pool at the end of his lane. She waited as he made his turn and began charging back toward her.

His head twisted from side to side, his strong arms sliced through the water with powerful strokes and so caught up was he in the relentless, _mindless_, back and forth of it all that he didn't see her until the last minute. He floundered, his forward momentum pushing him into her and shoving both of them against the side of the pool.

"What the hell are you -" His breath escaped him in huge, heaving pants. "I could have hurt you!"

"Stop!" she cried. She braced a hand on his bicep. "What are you doing? Are you trying to kill yourself?" Her eyes bored into his, trying to figure out what was driving him. This was more than just a perceived failure to live up to other people's expectations.

"Tired," he gasped. "I'm so tired."

"Of course you are!" She rapped a fist against his shoulder. "You can't keep doing this to yourself every night."

He wrapped his fingers around the lip of the pool and lowered his head between their bodies. "No," he said, chest heaving. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand. Tell me what the hell is going on with you!"

He struggled for breath. "Everyone's watching me, waiting for me to make another mistake." He looked up, his eyes desperate. "I'm going to lose it all," he cried.

Caught up in his wild despair, she put her hands on his arms.

"Tell me," she said softly. "Just tell me."

"I don't sleep. And there have been days when I'm so tired, I can barely function." His breath began to even out. "If I wear myself out with physical exertion before bed, sometimes I can get a few uninterrupted hours of sleep. So I run or lift weights or I swim laps or read reports until I'm so exhausted that I just… collapse."

"Why don't you go to McCoy? There are plenty of things he could prescribe to help you sleep."

"No, I can't go to him… I don't want…" He shook his head violently.

"Why not? He's your best friend." She was at a loss to understand. "Lots of people suffer from insomnia," she told him. "I don't… you're not making sense. You said that everyone is waiting for you to make a mistake. Are you worried that McCoy will note your insomnia on your medical records and Starfleet will find out and try to use it against you? To strip command of the _Enterprise_ from you?"

"No." He scrubbed his hands over his face. "If Bones gives me something… I don't… I'll be trapped. I won't be able to wake myself when it starts…"

"When it…? What are you -?" She stopped talking when she realized he was whispering something under his breath. She closed her eyes and worked to block out all of the surrounding noises – the quietly lapping water, the hum of the pool filter, the distant and barely discernable thrum of the overhead lights.

"_Ptha. Vash. Tr'krei'ses. Lak'tra. Ak'sh'iz."_

She was startled to realize he was speaking in Vulcan. Her eyes popped open and she looked up. His gaze was unfocused, distant, as he continued to whisper and her brain raced to keep up.

"Fear, terror," she translated silently. "Anguish, grief, ashamed."

She tightened her grip on his arms and gave him a tiny shake. "Kirk," she called.

He continued to mutter softly. Vulcan words of rage and grief, terror and sorrow.

"Jim!" She shook him harder and with a soft gasp, his focus returned to her.

"I didn't know you spoke Vulcan," she said.

"I… I don't." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in response to the headache blooming there. "I… Spock…"

"Spock has been teaching you Vulcan?" She was more confused than ever.

"No. The Ambassador…" He paused, trying to remember who exactly knew about the elder Vulcan."

"The other Spock," she prodded. "He helped you get back to the _Enterprise_."

He nodded, relieved not to have to explain. "Have you ever heard of a mind meld?"

"Yes. Sometimes when we… Spock and I would…" Embarrassed, her voice trailed off. Some things were too intimate to share.

Kirk cleared his throat and in a voice he might have used during a debriefing, tonelessly filled her in on what had transpired between him and the elder Spock in the ice cave. He was unable to maintain his detachment and by the time he reached the end of his tale, Uhura was aware of a faint trembling in the arms beneath her hands.

"He saw his planet destroyed," Kirk whispered. "But he also heard them – billions of his people - crying out in fear as the planet collapsed around them." He shuddered. "He felt their collective terror and he blames himself for not getting there in time to save Romulus and in turn to save Vulcan."

"And you felt it as well… through the meld," she realized with dull horror.

His head dropped between his shoulders. His voice was tight with suppressed tears. "Until that day, I always thought that Vulcans didn't _feel_," he admitted. "But I learned the hard way - from both Spocks - that when a Vulcan loses control over their emotions, it can be a fearsome and soul-wrenching thing to behold." His hand lifted to brush over phantom bruises around his throat.

He lifted his gaze to hers. "I can't sleep," he repeated. "I close my eyes and I hear them crying out. I feel them dying. And I feel the Ambassador's pain and guilt and I know that I was too big of a coward to admit the truth."

"And what truth is that?"

"That if anyone should be blamed for the destruction of Vulcan, it should be me."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Kirk lifted his hands from the water and rubbed one wet palm over his forehead before covering his mouth with his fingers.

"I'm sorry," he muttered from behind his hand. "I've gotta go."

Uhura's mouth gaped open as he heaved himself from the pool. She watched in confused silence as he gathered up his belongings and stalked quickly from the room.

Shaking her head in bewilderment, she climbed out of the pool and reached for her towel. She scrubbed it over her limbs and wrapping it around her body, sank onto the edge of the lounge chair as her mind replayed the last few minutes of their conversation.

Uhura didn't know what she had expected to happen when she had invited him to join her tonight. Certainly, she had hoped to get him to talk, but she had never anticipated the confession he had given.

Mechanically, she began stuffing her belongings into her tote. "Crazy," she mumbled as she folded the damp towel and pulled her cover-up over her head. Clenching her fingers around the handle of her tote, she marched out of the recreation area. It was time to set a few things straight.

********

She arrived at Kirk's door a few moments later and immediately noted that he had engaged the do not disturb. Ignoring it, she pressed her thumb against the door chime. Unsurprised when there was no response, she pressed the button again, this time holding it down for several, long seconds.

Again, no response. She pursed her lips, and once again depressed the chime button, refusing to release it for a full sixty seconds; let go and when there was still no reply from within, she leaned into it once more. Another sixty seconds ticked by, bleeding into ninety, before his irritated voice sounded quietly over the intercom.

"Lieutenant." His voice was proper, captain-like, bordering on frigid. "Unless this is a ship's emergency, I'm sure anything else can wait until morning."

She knew that he was likely watching her on the video screen near the door so she rolled her eyes, dropped her tote and made a show of leaning comfortably against the doorframe before casually lifting her thumb to the chime button. She smiled cheekily toward where she knew the camera was capturing her every move and blatantly checked the timepiece strapped to her wrist before raising a delicate hand to cover a feigned yawn. Her body language said 'I can stay out here all night if necessary' and one more time, she depressed the chime.

She knew it was impossible, but the pneumatic doors seemed to open with an irritated hiss. She carefully wiped any trace of a triumphant smile from her face and quickly slipped past his blocking body. A distant part of her noted that he had changed back into his jeans and t-shirt.

Hands on his hips, he stepped close and used his larger mass to try to intimidate her into backing down. Uhura simply shook her head and let out a soft sigh, refusing to give ground. Long seconds passed before the coiled tension in his body eased. His chin dropped towards his chest and his shoulders drooped.

"Lieutenant…" he began in a weary voice.

"Captain," she interrupted. "Due respect, but what you said down there makes no sense."

"You just can't understand," he began.

"No!" Once again, she cut him off. "That's crazy!" she exclaimed. "Nero – and Nero alone – is to blame. "Not the Ambassador and certainly not you!"

"You're wrong," he said quietly. "I had all the information and I took too long to put it together. I should have started to figure it out when you mentioned that attack on the Klingon prison planet and their war birds," he ground out bitterly. "But I was too busy plotting a way to beat the Kobayashi Maru. Too busy with Gaila. Too busy teasing you. Too busy screwing with the test administrators and then too busy worrying about how I was going to get myself out of the jam I found myself in after the test."

Kirk rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and sighed. "You're right when you say that I'm cocky and arrogant. I was so focused on being the only cadet to ever beat that test… If I had put it together sooner… the rest of the fleet would have been warned before they even left space dock. They could have had their shields up when they entered Vulcan space. They would have had their weapons ready. They might have stood a chance. Or we could have evacuated more people from Vulcan."

"It's my fault," he insisted. "And I didn't even have the courage to tell the Ambassador."

Uhura's face was a study in disbelief. She opened her mouth to disabuse him of his perceived guilt but he raised his hand in a chopping motion, cutting off anything she had to say.

"The Ambassador blames himself for not saving Romulus in time, for setting things into motion and I blame myself for not piecing it all together quickly enough and I _know_ that I'm responsible. If I had just… if I was quicker… if I had stopped worrying about stupid things… maybe Spock's mother would still be alive. Maybe Gaila and the rest of our classmates would still be alive. Maybe Vulcan would have been saved. Maybe you and Spock would still be together because he wouldn't feel a pressing duty to help propagate the species. Maybe…

She stepped forward until their bodies were almost touching and clapped a hand over his mouth to stop the litany of insanity.

"It's pure arrogance on your part to think you're to blame," she hissed. "Pike missed it. I missed it. Spock missed it. Starfleet missed it. Why should you…?

He yanked his head away from her hand. "Because it's my story," he snarled. "Some kids hear the story of their births and it goes something along the lines of 'this time ten years ago, I was in the maternity ward of the medical bay. You were just born and your father and I were laughing and crying. I was holding you. It was the happiest moment of my life.'" He pinched his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "But my story is all about lightning storms in space and strange anomalies and a huge ship appearing out of nowhere and my mother watching my father die mere seconds after I had been placed in her arms."

He placed his hands on her elbows and pushed his face into hers. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked in a controlled growl. "This is the earliest story I ever remember hearing. It was told to me time and again. No one is more intimately familiar with it than I." He shook his head. "You don't want to hear it, but it _is_ my fault."

His gaze bore into hers and she was stunned by the desolation that dulled his normally sparkling eyes. "And if Starfleet ever realizes that I had all the pieces and that I was so consumed by my own petty concerns, I'll lose everything. My rank. The _Enterprise_. Everything."

"Stop!" she cried. "Listen to me. Just… listen." She took a deep breath, hoping to break through to him.

"That part of you that you hate yourself for? That is the very best part of you." She nodded vehemently when he would have protested. "The part of you that would not simply walk away from the Kobayashi Maru, the part that drove you to find a way to beat the test… the part of you that Spock and Starfleet and so many of the rest of us wanted to punish…? That is the same stubborn, never-say-never part of you that found a way to save the world." Her fingers were wrapped tightly around his arms, her nails digging small crescent marks into his biceps as she sought desperately to make him hear her.

"You're James T. Kirk. The brilliant, young captain of the _Enterprise_. The man who saved earth. Starfleet would be foolish to try to take all of that away from you."

He shook his head in rapid and instinctive denial of his words.

"It's true," she insisted, giving him a hard shake to punctuate her words. "You told me that living up to people's expectations of you was so impossible a task that you decided early in life not to even try," she reminded him. "Well, Captain, I don't know how to tell you this, but you have exceeded their expectations."

His eyes were closed in a defensive gesture but she knew he was listening and she continued to press her point home. "You never gave up," she told him. "No matter what was done to you, no matter how hard Pike or Spock or McCoy or others tried to shut you up… you literally just kept coming back, convinced that you were right."

She moved her mouth close to his ear. "You did not fail, Jim." Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. "Your father saved eight hundred lives and is considered a hero. But your actions not only saved the lives of most of the crew of this ship, you saved the Earth, you saved the rest of the Federation and you destroyed the man responsible for your father's death, for Spock's mother's death, for the destruction of the rest of the fleet and the genocide on Vulcan. _You are a hero."_

His breath was coming in shallow, rapid pants but his head was cocked towards her and she was sure that she was starting to get through to him.

"I think you were born to be captain of this ship." She took a deep breath and continued on. "Do you want to know a secret? I wanted to be assigned to the _Enterprise_ since the first day I learned she was being commissioned. She's the only ship I ever wanted to serve on. I was supposed to be on the _Farragut_ when the distress call from Vulcan came in but I laid a guilt trip onto Spock forcing him to change my orders to the _Enterprise_." She paused for a moment. "But after we got back… if they had not given _Enterprise_ to you… I would not have wanted to serve on her under any captain other than you."

He lifted his head sharply, his confused gaze focused on her.

"You're young. You're inexperienced. You make mistakes. But still… we all feel safe with you in command. _I_ feel safe with you as captain. I feel _invincible_. I feel that there's nothing this crew and this ship can't do because you simply won't accept any other option."

His blue eyes were damp with unshed tears as he continued to stare at her. Her fiercely whispered words were a balm to the open wounds on his psyche. His lips parted as if to speak but the words were stuck behind the huge lump in his throat. Instead he closed his eyes and one tear broke free of his lashes to roll slowly down his cheek.

It was a toss-up as to who was more surprised by what happened next as Uhura gave in to impulse and sent her mouth sliding down the path left by that one tear. Her lips sponged up the salty droplet and lingered on the soft, vulnerable skin beneath his jaw. She heard him suck in a breath and then felt his pulse begin to hammer wildly against her lips and she felt a surge of power like she had never known before.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Uhura's lips rested against Kirk's throat for the space of a heartbeat before she pulled back and lifted her head. He gazed at her with a look at once intent and inquisitive. Plaintive and predatory. In his eyes she saw her own feelings of confusion and curiosity reflected back at her.

In the next instant, his mouth crushed down onto hers, one hand flattened against the small of her back, drawing her against his hard body, the other fist twined around the thick rope of the braid hanging down her back until her head was cradled in the palm of his big hand.

Uhura had long held pride in and put great store in what she considered to be her best traits - self-possession and a calm, rational manner - and had, therefore, chosen men who shared similar and complimentary qualities. Though not immune to an attractive face and well-toned body, she first and foremost looked for a man who was self-disciplined and whose strength of mind and will were of equal match to her own before taking a lover or entering into a relationship.

Her bond with Spock had been formed in exactly that way and the exquisite control he held over his body and her own had brought her to such heights of pleasure that with the loss of that relationship she had feared never again to feel anything similar. She had mourned the demise of that physical connection as intensely as she had the emotional and cerebral bonds.

Never, ever had she been drawn to the unpredictable. Never had she wanted to cede control to another. To surrender to a man.

Never. Until now.

Uhura was torn, teetering on the edge between her desire to relinquish control and her need to maintain the power she had felt surging through her only moments earlier.

Kirk's mouth moved over hers, the flavor of his kisses changing with each gasping breath drawn. First intense; then languid. Feral; then lingering.

His tongue darted out to flick at the seam of her lips, dipped into the corner of her mouth, teasing, tasting until her lips parted on a soft moan. He wasted no time in pressing his advantage and a second later his tongue was tangled with hers. Her lips curved against his and triumph bloomed inside her, as this time, the groan she heard reverberated through _his_ chest.

She lifted her arms to twine them around his neck, tilted her head to change the angle and depth of their kiss. She threaded her fingers through his still-damp hair and lightly scratched her fingertips against his scalp, pleased when a corresponding shudder rippled down his spine in response.

Kirk released his grip on her hair and his hand dropped to fumble with the knot of the ribbon closure of her cover-up. His fingers tugged the ends of the ribbon loose and he pushed the material aside. He drew the calloused tips of his fingers and then the backs of his knuckles over the swell of her breast where it strained against the damp material of her swimsuit. His other hand slid from the small of her back and under the hem of her halter, tracing a restless pattern over the soft skin of her stomach. His thumb dipped briefly into the hollow of her navel and she felt an answering _zing_ pulse deep within her.

His caresses were leisurely and in direct contrast to the ferocious movements of his mouth.

She wanted more.

And so, it seemed, did he as he shoved her against the wall and boosted her up until her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. The rough denim of his jeans created a delicious friction against the tender skin of her legs with every rhythmic pulse of his hips.

He tasted of sin and glory.

She wanted… she wanted… Oh, she wanted to mark him, possess him. Yield to him until he was imprinted on her and in her.

She pulled away and his head lolled back onto his shoulders as she sank careful teeth into the spot where the tendon connecting his neck and his shoulder stood out in stark relief. She bit down with small, white teeth and then used her lips and tongue to lave and soothe away the sting. She tightened her grip around his neck and rested her cheek against his in a tender moment, then rubbed her face against his, her movements that of a contented cat as she abraded her own skin against the sandpapery roughness of his.

She cupped his face in her hands before her mouth descended again to meet his and their kiss quickly built from a languid dreaminess to excruciating need. His hand was wrapped lightly around her throat and he was using all of his body weight to crush her into the wall and everything about his stance spoke of domination and control except for the needy push of his hips against hers and the ragged heaving of his chest.

For her part, Uhura's fingers rushed restlessly under the soft cotton of his t-shirt, over the smooth skin of his back and shoulders, tracing an endless path up and down the length of his spine pushing his need and hers to a fever pitch. She squirmed until she was able to get one hand between their bodies and her fingers fumbled with the clasp of his jeans. He groaned low and long and tore his mouth from hers.

"Wait."

Her newly-freed mouth latched onto his throat, her tongue darting out to swipe roughly over his Adam's apple.

"I don't want to," she mumbled against his skin, her lips pressing a soft kiss into the hollow at the base of his throat.

"Stop," he panted. "We can't… we shouldn't…"

Uhura's head fell back against the wall and she looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Why?" she protested softly, working hard to suppress the whimper she felt building in her throat.

"Oh, God." He dropped his head onto her shoulder and his breath was hot and ragged against her neck.

"I'm your commanding officer," he began.

"There's no regulation against senior staff…" she protested.

"I know," he murmured against her neck. "But, still… I promised myself…"

"Hey," she threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging on the short strands until he lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Starfleet doesn't send a crew out on a five year mission and expect its captains not to form attachments and relationships," she whispered.

"I know," he repeated. "But it's more than that."

"What?" She lowered her feet onto the ground but kept her body pressed into his, her arms firmly locked around him.

"Spock," he said weakly. "He's… we're… he's becoming my friend and I can't…" He waved a helpless hand.

"Please." A note of irritation entered her voice. "He's my friend too, but he has no other claim on me. I don't need his permission to see anyone else and," she narrowed her eyes, "neither do you."

He shook his head weakly.

"What is it?" she asked. "Some kind of guy code?"

"Don't tell me that women don't operate on the same code," he said sharply. "You wouldn't start something with the ex of a friend of yours without talking to her about it first and you know it."

Uhura's arms slid away from his neck, her hands coming to rest on his wrists as she subsided against the wall behind her. She focused her gaze on the blinding whiteness of his t-shirt and her voice was quiet when she spoke again.

"I think you're making excuses," she said flatly. "If you've changed your mind or you're not interested, you should at least have the guts to tell me."

Kirk ground his body into hers. "Does that _feel_ like I'm not interested?" he growled.

"Well, what else am I supposed to think?" Her eyes flashed as she lifted an insistent gaze to his. "Everything you've said still sounds like simple excuses to me."

He pushed away from her and stalked a few feet across the room then paced back until he loomed dangerously over her. His hands were clenched into fists at his side and his chest rose and fell raggedly.

"I don't want you to be with me because you felt sorry for me one night," he snarled and waved a hand behind him as though pointing back toward their earlier conversation.

She opened her mouth to lodge a protest but fell silent when he wrapped strong fingers around her arms and jerked her onto her toes. His lips were just inches away from hers when he spoke again.

"I've had a thing for you since the night we met," he admitted in a low, hoarse voice. "But you weren't interested and eventually I just… gave up." He released her and lifted one shoulder in a self-deprecating shrug.

"I'd rather have nothing than have a one-night stand and risk not even being able to work together," he confessed.

Uhura released a long, low sigh and dropped her forehead against his chest.

"Me too," she said. She wound her arms around his waist and felt him stroke one tentative hand over her hair.

She took a deep breath and stepped back, looking up at him with a wobbly smile.

"Friends?" she asked.

A ghost of his trademark grin flashed across his face.

"Friends," he agreed as he stroked a single finger over her cheek.

She reached down and lifted her bag onto her shoulder and turned toward the door.

"I'm going home," she told him. "You try and get some sleep tonight," she admonished gently.

He smiled again and leaned against the wall next to the door.

"Yes, ma'am," he intoned softly.

Uhura rose up onto her toes and impulsively brushed a lingering kiss across his lips.

"Goodnight," she called as she stepped into the hall. She could feel him watching her as she strode quickly toward her own quarters.

She would be patient, she decided. Be his friend.

And who knew. Maybe, someday, it would develop into something more.

End

A/N Thanks so much to everyone who has left a comment or review. I so very much appreciate all of your very kind words.


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